The title character of Miranda Mellis' The Revisionist conducts covert surveillance on a Saunders-esque city whose inhabitants are subject to uncanny transformations as a result of catastrophic weather, political corruption, invasive technologies and environmental degradation. Hired to spin, or 'revise,' the facts, the revisionist's perceptions in turn become detached and distorted--inevitably unreliable yet all the same, revealing. This civil scientist of a narrator sardonically observes a distressed landscape inhabited by mutant children, a seeing-eye dog, a centenarian with iguanas and constellations beneath her dress, brooding frigate birds, insurance love clones, a terrorist curator, a private investigator, and a little girl who's discovered the world's largest conch. "There's an uncanny lightness about Miranda Mellis's gliding techno-novella. It's slow and glimmery like steam punk--and wise about gender too. She's right up there (for me) with Bob Dylan, folk art, anime and all the kind and great animals and plants of the world. I love this book so much." —Eileen Myles "Caught somewhere in that nexus of living, observing and manipulating from which our current American malaise most convincingly reveals itself, the conflicted narrator of Miranda Mellis' taut story telescopulates to capture and possess a variety of lives from a distance. The Revisionist is at once a beautifully simple fable and a wonderfully lyrical apocalyptic tale. Though its motion seems at first Brownian, it manages almost because of this to get to where few books ever manage to go." —Brian Evenson There's an uncanny lightness about Miranda Mellis's gliding techno-novella. It's slow and glimmery like steam punk and wise about gender too. She's right up there (for me) with Bob Dylan, folk art, anime and all the kind and great animals and plants of the world. I love this book so much. --Eileen Myles Caught somewhere in that nexus of living, observing and manipulating from which our current American malaise most convincingly reveals itself, the conflicted narrator of Miranda Mellis taut story telescopulates to capture and possess a variety of lives from a distance. The Revisionist is at once a beautifully simple fable and a wonderfully lyrical apocalyptic tale. Though its motion seems at first Brownian, it manages almost because of this to get to where few books ever manage to go. --Brian Evenson In her novella The Revisionist, Miranda Mellis plunges her readers into a looming, apocalyptic existence where the natural world resembles an ominous machine, and the local convenience store has become known as the new natural jungle. Complemented by the mechanical yet strangely beautiful artwork of Derek White, whose images seem to be almost motorized, Mellis story of a nuclear age weatherman paints a world without sensation, or truth, or reaction. Yet, despite the empty void felt between her characters, Mellis manages to transcend the predictable feelings of hopelessness, and subtly, tastefully adds an afterglow of promise to her story. A short 82 pages, The Revisionist vividly observes the world through the eyes of its narrator, a weather surveillance reporter who documents his--or her, Mellis never tells us--findings from an abandoned lighthouse, seven miles outside the city. Ironically, Mellis emphasizes the heightened sensation that can be felt through the use of the narrator s telescope--to hear another s heartbeat, or to read another s mind--and juxtaposes this advanced machinery with both a narrator who has significantly distanced himself from the subjects of his observations and a human population that fails to feel anything at all anymore. The rest of the review is here: http://versemag.blogspot.com/2007/03/new-review-of-miranda-mellis.html --Caitlin Brown, Verse Used Book in Good Condition